College
by DancingCrimson
Summary: One-Shots, drabbles, lemons, angst, plot, whatnot in an AU college setting. Every chapter independent. Planned: Jerza, Miraxus, Gruvia, Nalu. I love prompts!
1. Dancing- Jerza

Jellal used to decline when he and Erza went to clubs and she asked him to dance. Jellal quickly learned that when Erza danced, some horny fucker was going to dance with her anyway, so that horny fucker might as well be him. And so he tortured himself with the feeling of skin on skin, the feeling of her slim waist, her hands coiled around his neck. Alcohol brought out her sadistic streak, and she particularly enjoyed turning him on but refusing to leave the dance floor until the night really was over. The exertion ultimately leading to Erza panting in his ear the same way she did when he was inside her, which got him rock hard. And she knew it, too, going by the playful glint in her eyes when she brushed against the bulge in his pants oh-so-innocently.

"One more time." Jellal growled the threat into her sweat-slicked skin. "Touch me like that one more time and I'm going to drag you into this club's bathroom and fuck the shit out of you."

Erza's only response was a breathy laugh.

"Maybe I want you to drag me into this club's bathroom and fuck the shit out of me." She taunted, and of course his pants were so tight it was painful, but when he grabbed her wrist, her alcohol-fed smile only widened. "Then again, maybe I don't."

"You're a fucking tease." He swore. "Why do you drink? You turn into a monster."

"I like when you punish me for it." She said sweetly, fluidly turning into a move that pressed her ass against his cock for definitely longer than necessary. He let out a low groan at the contact, so turned on he could barely breathe.

"Erza." He wasn't begging, goddamnit, he just had to say her name.

"Yesssss" She drew it out almost lazily, those warm brown eyes now heated with lust.

"Your power trip games are going to get you into more trouble than usual," He warned, wanting to touch her so badly, just wrench those wrists behind her back, shove her over the nearest counter, and-

"I want trouble today." She replied flippantly, her lips parting for her ragged breathing as he slid a hand up her dress. It was dark on the dance floor, and couples definitely did much worse.

Erza had a bit of a masochistic streak. She liked rough sex. And every now and then, she pushed him to the limits of his sanity, and he let her, because then she let him take it out on her.

It was fucking hot.

"I could turn you on on this dance floor." His threats were driven by anticipation, the end goal, Erza coming apart, caving first, begging. His win.

"I could let you," She countered, and he didn't hesitate to go farther, press his fingers against what he knew was lacy black underwear.

"You're wet for me." He knew she would be, but it stroked his male ego to no end nonetheless.

"Always." She stole a kiss, gasping into his mouth as he slid a finger inside her, faltering in her movements.

"Ask me to steal you away." He nipped her lower lip, and she whimpered as he slid another finger into her slick, wet heat.

"I don't have to ask you to make you do what I want." A bold challenge, every word intentional, and his next kiss was punishing, sucking and biting her lip enough to know it would swell.

"I guess I don't have to ask you either." He pumped his fingers and she whimpered again, altering her rhythm to push back against his hand, desperate for pleasure. "Beg for me."

"No." She ran her tongue up his neck, salty with sweat. "If you want it, take it."

"I will take it. And I'll take your begging, too." He let her go, withdrawing his hand to run his tongue up his finger, her gaze glued to the action. "Beg for me."

She wavered, moving closer again, and he knew she would cave today. She enjoyed the surrender more than the battle, after all. "No."

He pulled her away from the crowd, towards the bathroom, stopping just at the edge of the mass of dancers, the edm music pulsing through their feet. From any distance, they wouldn't be able to hear each other, so he moved closer again, lips to her ear. "Beg me to pull you into that bathroom, lock the door, and make you scream to loud they'll hear you above the music. Beg me to give you what you want. Beg me to make it good. Beg me to fuck you."

She caved. "Please."

Within minutes, he checked the empty bathroom, dragged her inside, locked the door, and whirled her to face the mirror. They locked eyes in the mirror, her back against his chest, one hand up in his hair, the other entwined with one of his. His other hand moved her dress up her thighs, well over her sheer black underwear.

"What do you see?" He pressed a kiss to her ear, never breaking eye contact, his hand sliding into her panties.

"Your hand in my underwear." She panted, eyes fiery, mouth swollen. "Your fingers aren't what I begged for."

"Fuck." He let go, stepping away to unbutton his jeans. "I can't even hold out enough to torture you. Take them off."

Erza slid them down her thighs, tossing them onto the sink counter, her eyes still locked with his. She craved it just as much as him, so turned on she was dizzy, arousal turning her body hot and unbearably sensitive.

"Bend over." He didn't touch her yet, breaking their eye contact to savour the view. She'd always driven him crazy, and waiting for him she was just gorgeous; all too tempting, messy red hair, the curve of her spine, legs spread in an invitation it physically hurt him to wait to accept.

"You made me wait for this." he squeezed her ass, just enough force for her to moan. "I love you, did you know that?" He lined his cock up and slid home, eyes closing at the sensation. Tight, wet, heat. All his. "I fucking love what you do to me."

Every thrust pulled a low, sexy moan from her, ragged exhales, and she slapped a hand against the mirror to brace herself, pushing back to meet his thrusts.

"Jellal" She moaned his name, and he just about came right there.

"Say it again. " he gripped her waist, knowing there were likely going to be bruises tomorrow, and the thought gave him a sick satisfaction.

"Jellal." Her voice caught at a pitch. "Ah."

"You're going to have bruises," He panted, fucking harder, rougher, fueled by her noises, her writhing, her pleasure.

"Yes," She gasped, head dropping, red hair wild. "I want them. I love when you leave them."

"You love me" He corrected her, and even drowning in sex she smiled at him.

"I do" She managed, her cries escalating. That high pitch was when she was about to come, all her noises so familiar to him, the knowledge was effortless. "Jellal, I love you."

"Fuck." Gripping tighter, he slammed into her impossibly harder, and she cried out as he relentlessly pushed her through her orgasm, coming right after with a growled curse.

There was a moment of coming down to earth, the rush of blood fading, heated skin cooling. Jellal pressed a kiss to her shoulder and she giggled, her voice soft and content.

"You always say I love you." She teased, reaching for her underwear.

"I can't help it. I wasn't able to say it for nineteen years. I need to make up for it." He replied too sincerely, turning her around for a slow, sweet, kiss.

"For two years?" She couldn't stop smiling into his affection.

"For the next two hundred years." He replied solemnly, and she laughed.

"Let's get out of here. I need a shower."

"So do I," He unlocked the door, fingers woven through hers.

"We should save water." She blinked innocently at him. "Be efficient."

"Erza, are you asking for shower sex?" He was amused.

"I am absolutely asking for shower sex." Innocence evaporated into wickedness.

"I am absolutely down for shower sex."

"I know."

"You're filthy."

"So are you."

"I love it."

"I know that, too."

* * *

Yo!

First chapter!

Lemon because I'm shameless.

Some will have plot, some will have filth.

Most stories will be Erza, quite a bit of Miraxus (which will probably have BDSM elements), and a smatter of Gruvia and Nalu. Any other couples, I'm unsure. Also, a healthy dose of angst.

Send requests!

-DancingCrimson


	2. Crimson- Gruvia

When Gray paints, he's beautiful. He gets lost in it, tuning out the rest of the world, but Juvia can't even bring herself to mind when he forgets she is still in the room. It gives her the opportunity to study him engrossed in his own world, a view she unashamedly enjoys. She's spent too many evenings huddled into the faded brown sofa in his dorm room, watching him stand at his easel. Juvia has memorized his side profile, the hard set of his jaw when he's concentrating on getting that stroke _just right, _or his parted lips when he's afraid of where his brush is taking him, if it will make a mistake. He always ends up with paint on his cheek, his jaw, splattered across his bare chest- "so I don't get my shirts dirty, Juvia"- and she wants to trace every spark of colour with her lips.

Lately, the experience has been a bit less exciting, and that's because Gray's latest piece is _red. _

Not just red, not fun or bright, but a deep, lush colour. It's _crimson. _It's Erza's hair, it's bold, it's passionate, and it makes Juvia sulk.

The piece is Gray's venture into abstract art, because he's taking a class on it; every month has a different theme, and it's become a game for Juvia to guess what the theme is after Gray finishes a painting.

She is fixated on his painting more than she is fixated on his face, for once, scrutinizing the spindly black lines forming a neat but incomprehensible shape. Her scowl deepens as the crimson paint proudly bleeds over the black lines again, but rather than looking messy it just looks _wild. _

She switches her attention back to his face, his frown almost mirroring hers. His lips are parted the way they do when he is uncertain about what he's doing but going with his gut, and her heart squeezes in fierce fondness. She wants that gaze on her. She wants that intensity and those careful hands touching her in places she didn't know she wanted to be touched.

She wants Gray.

Gray currently wants red.

She can't stand this anymore. It's February, and she's sure the theme will be something romance involved. His professor is notorious for her fondness for drama, romance, and general theatrics. What if the theme is love? Lust? Sex?

Juvia is tempted to break his concentration, to get her accusations out once and for all, but she can't bring herself to do it. It isn't exactly her place. After months of her one-sided pursuit, Gray has hinted at reciprocation, but overall it's just made her nervous. They'd definitely grown much closer- as far as she knew, Juvia was the only one allowed to sit in while he was painting. There had been some heavy gazes, secret smiles, accidental touches. Juvia just wasn't sure where they were right now. Maybe she'd misread the signs, and maybe it was a certain redhead those were for?

"Hey." Gray's voice breaks the silence, and she is startled back to attention. He had stepped back from the painting and was looking at her, swishing his brush in a tin of water.

"Hey." She can't help but smile at his almost bedraggled appearance. Messy hair, no shirt, splattered in red. Her smile fades. Claimed by crimson.

"What's the theme this month?" She asks as innocently as she can, but her voice must sound off, because Gray narrows his eyes.

"War." He replies, glancing at it. "Do you think it fits?"

"It looks like…" She clears her throat. "Did you think of Erza-san while painting this?"

Gray looks more confused than anything, and a little defensive. "Sort of, I guess."

Her heart flinches, but when she retreats into that cold place inside her head, her face never gives her away. "Juvia thinks it's nice."

"Hey." Gray sets the water tin down, moving towards her, but Juvia doesn't want him to see her right now- she feels ugly inside. She's better than this. She jumps to her feet, prepared to flee, but he captures her wrist. "Are you mad?"

"Why would Juvia be mad?" She replies calmly, too calm, a little cold. Not natural enough.

"You just…" He steps closer, brushing his fingertips to her face, and the warmth coming off his body cracks the cold she tries to hide in. He's so… _Gray. _He always pulls her out, intentional or not. Juvia's frown returns with vengeance. "You look mad."

"Juvia can't help but be upset that Gray-sama made a painting of another girl." Honesty is the best policy, right? Juvia doesn't want to hide anything from Gray.

"It's not like that, Juvia." Gray's fingertips slide against her skin until his whole hand cups her face, so painfully warm. "Erza is one of my best friends. She's… fierce. Warlike. It was just a vague inspiration"

"Juvia wants to be warlike. Strong and beautiful, like Erza, and your painting." She whispers the confession. It isn't that she's envious of Erza… much. Anyone would be envious of Erza, especially when she was so at ease with Gray...

"_Juvia." _Gray breathes, and his own eyes are beautiful, free of his trademark brooding or hard stare."You aren't warlike. But you're absolutely strong. And you're absolutely beautiful."

It's the first time he's been this direct, and it impacts Juvia more than she was ready for. He hesitates, but keeps going. "Crimson is a bold and fierce colour. It's impatient. But blue..." He walks backwards, tugging her with him, and she wouldn't let go for anything.

"Gray-sama?"

"Sshh" He is back in his own world, his eyes only seeing colours. He reaches for blues, red, white.

"Blue" He whispers, his bare hand drawing the line up her forearm. "It's calm. Soothing. Almost playful. Red…" The same bare hand dips into the red jar, and Gray adds an edge of it to the blue, the colour darkening. "Just a hint of passionate. But not enough to be angry. White… it's pure. Steady. And when you mix them…" The resulting colour matches her hair perfectly, the colours webbing from her palm to her upper arm, and Gray continues the pattern at her collarbone, climbing it's way up her throat. "It's strong, it's calm, it's steady. It's beautiful. If you wanted to be crimson, Juvia, you could be crimson. But I fucking love your cornflower blue." With that he locks eyes with her, and Juvia is _swooning. _

"Juvia likes her cornflower blue, too" Juvia whispers back, pressing her palm against his chest, a bright smear of blue. Claimed by her.

She looks back into his eyes, and their gazes lock once more. There is a heartbeat, two… Gray moves closer, so does she…

Gray's kisses are blue.

But the way he touches her is crimson.

* * *

I have a strong headcannon that Gray is really good at art and painting.

Unsatisfying ending, or just enough for imagination? I'm sorry this isn't as steamy. Not all my chapters will be; I basically want there to be sadness, anger, angst, etc in these. Just emotional rather than fluffy. I just had to do the title thing! This was just what came to me when I thought "crimson"

Also, I see your reviews! And requests! And I will follow through with them. I will try to make the next chapter hotter than this one!

~DancingCrimson


	3. First Time- Nalu

"Lucy, goddamnit, _sshh_" Natsu laughed into his girlfriend's neck, and she tried to stifle her giggles into his shoulder. Why did she have to be so _ticklish? _

"I can't help it!" She protested. "Neck kisses are ticklish!"

"Gajeel might hear us," He warned, feathering more kisses behind her ear, prompting the giggles again. She was so damn cute.

"Gray is spending the night at Juvia's, so at least there's only one roommate to worry about." She cuddled closer to him, eyes wide at the prospect of being caught messing around at one in the morning. She was inexplicably shy about that. Natsu honestly didn't care. He had his own room this semester, why would he not take advantage of it with his impossibly cute, sweet, _loud-_

"Luce!" He chided.

"Natsu!" She mimicked, and stole a kiss. She tasted like peach yogurt and smelled like sunshine, and he told her so.

"Sunshine doesn't smell like anything, Natsu."

"Sunshine smells like you." He refused to give in, instead lightly tracing his hand up her bare side to draw more giggles from her. The sound was sugar sweet, he liked hearing it.

"You're trying to make me laugh on purpose." Lucy accused, wriggling away from his hand, so he dropped his weight heavier on her. The soft friction against his chest didn't do wonders for the boner he was trying to suppress, and it didn't go unnoticed.

"_Natsu!" _She breathed, eyes widening in mock shock. She was unable to hide the playfulness dancing in her soft brown eyes. "How _uncouth!" _

"Don't use your writer words on me" Natsu dipped down for a kiss, and she was all too happy to oblige. Lazy nights in bed were the best. "You're in my bed in nothing but underwear. What do you want from me?" A cute, simple pink pair. Innocent and sweet.

"I want to cuddle," Lucy said innocently, tilting her head to let Natsu trace kisses up her cheek.

"I want to touch." Natsu's hand returned to her side, sliding up to those heavenly soft-

"I like touch." Lucy arched into him. _God bless boobs. _"Are you a boob man or an ass man?"

"Boobs." He answered without hesitation, and to prove his point he sucked one tight pink nipple into his mouth, making Lucy gasp. "Your boobs. Everything about you." He nipped hard enough to make Lucy inhale sharply, soothing the sting with his tongue. She pulled him back up for a kiss, deeper than the previous ones. Fluffy cuddle time was dissolving into something heavier.

"But your roommate…" Lucy closed her eyes as he rolled his hips into her, all hot impatient male. Natsu was all heat, raw aggression; but he was always careful with her, never pushed her boundaries, and Lucy loved him fiercely for it. Although they had messed around- a lot- she hadn't been ready to go all the way yet. She'd been planning a romantic night out with their first time on their six month anniversary, but now she didn't think she could wait that long. Lucy had to admit she was starting to crave it. She trusted Natsu, she loved him, and she was ready.

"We'll be quiet." He lightly sucked on her neck, the friction between their legs building. It had become a rule that as long as underwear was on, anything goes. "Won't we, Luce"

"I can be quiet" She tried to sound indignant, but it was almost a squeak at the effort to keep her voice from carrying. Damn it, why did she have to be one of the loud ones? Not even like a sexy low moan, but high pitched whimpers and gasps.

"No, you can't, Luce" Natsu laughed quietly. "But I love all your noises." _I love you. _

"Natsu" She gasped, heat building in her lower stomach. "If you don't stop…" Natsu's eyes gleamed, and he pressed against her harder. Why was underwear so thin? Natsu was too good at getting her off with nothing but _grinding. _

"Just come" He slid a hand into her panties, and she stifled a whimper. Natsu wasn't much of a tease. He liked to go for it, and even just sticking to foreplay lead to mind-numbing orgasms. They knew what turned each other on, they had that down to a science. But this time, she wanted...

"I… I want to more than your fingers, Natsu" She blurted, and the shock made him stop. "I want to go all the way."

"Luce?" He watched her carefully. "You already know I was fine with us waiting until you were ready-"

"I'm ready." She said firmly. "Are you?"

He actually paused to consider it, and she loved that he thought about it carefully before answering.

"Yes, Luce." He started to smile. "I've always been ready for you."

"I'm wet" She whispered, and his smile was replaced by hunger. "I want you."

"Condom" Natsu whispered back, reaching over her to his nightstand. They'd agreed long ago to keep it on hand, just in case. "Luce…"

She kissed him, hard. "Faster."

With minor stumbling on his part, her legs were tied, his mouth was on hers, and his fingers were preparing her in a way that fed her impatience.

"You're teasing me" She accused.

"I don't want it to hurt." He slid a third finger in, the amount they usually landed at, and the pressure was driving her crazy.

"Now" she begged. "I'm wet, it won't hurt, just go slowly"

"Slowly" Natsu repeated, and then she felt the head against her opening, and deliciously slowly, inch by inch, until he was inside.

It wasn't exactly the most pleasant feeling, the feeling of fullness, and she felt a spark of nervousness. Natsu noticed immediately.

"Lucy." He kissed her, hard, stroking her tongue with his.

"Natsu." She whimpered back into his mouth, and just like that, she was so turned on it hurt.

"Are you okay?"

"Move. Slowly."

"You feel _amazing, _Luce" His voice was strained. He moved slowly, setting the pace, and she dug her fingers into his back.

"Go just a little faster, Natsu" She whispered, closing her eyes. "You feel… perfect."

"You're perfect." Natsu peppered her face with kisses, ragged pants, faster and harder. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"I do." She promised, her voice catching. "Natsu, I think I'm-"

"Come for me," He cupped her face, locking eyes with her in dazzling intensity. "I want to watch you come from me."

"Come with me," She hooked a leg around his waist, and he groaned, louder than she had been.

There were several heated moments filled with nothing but the sound of skin on skin, moaned names, and harsh breathing. Her grip tightened, he whispered about how beautiful she was under his breath, and then it was over in a breathy cry from Lucy and a low exhalation of her name from Natsu.

The aftermath was cuddles, Lucy giggling again at neck kisses, Natsu telling her to be quiet even while he tried to make her laugh harder.

"Are you okay?" Natsu touched his nose to hers, an affectionate eskimo kiss. She'd discovered he had a fondness for them.

"Feels a little weird." Lucy admitted. "But I like it. It only hurt for a bit. I'm glad." She wiggled her eyebrows at him. "We should do it again."

"Only every day for the rest of our lives," Natsu said solemnly, and she laughed.

"Ssshh- it's nearly two in the morning," Natsu laughed again at the surprise on Lucy's face.

"I forgot about Gajeel!" Lucy's giggles stopped immediately.

"Nah, he's probably asleep." Natsu squinted at his desk for his phone. "He sleeps through everything."

"Are you sure?"

"Probably?" Natsu found his phone and dragged it over to him, squinting as the screen lit up. Then he grinned sheepishly. "Actually…"

He showed her the phone.

_Gajeel Redfox, 34 minutes ago: I'm spending the night at Levy's. I think you two loud asses need some privacy._

* * *

Anyone else feel like there's no sexy words for boobs?

Nalu has always been just a little hard for me, especially NSFW. I feel like I accidentally make them bland. I wrote this because I've never written a first time before, and I wanted fluffy bed time.

I googled Lucy's favourite food for this. It's yogurt. Lucy apparently likes assertive men, and while I do think of Natsu as assertive, I ultimately try to keep him playful. In fact, I assign three traits for each of the couples I write about, just to help set their tones differently. For NaLu it's playful, loving, and fierce. Would you guys be curious about my three traits for every chapter I write?

Love y'all. Next chapter should be some good old Jerza.

~DancingCrimson


	4. Results- Miraxus

They'd argued, and Laxus was still fucking pissed at her, and she was definitely pissed at him too, because over the past week she went around wearing his favourite fucking things and smiling at other guys when she knew he was watching.

It had started with that simple black choker, that she kept running a finger over while she talked to some Blue Pegasus University dickhead, so naturally his eyes were on the silver ring on the front of it. Naturally he wanted to pull it, naturally she noticed his stare and innocently asked her if he wanted to touch it, and the sight of his hands anywhere near Mirajane's throat got Laxus's blood boiling.

Then, that skintight white skirt she owned, and every man at the bar glued his eyes to her ass when she walked by.

Now, that strappy black bralette that connected to a choker. The floor length, completely sheer black skirt with a slit up the side, clearly showing the skintight black garter shorts underneath.

One of his favourite clubwear outfits on her. Whenever she'd worn it out, they'd had to escape to the bathroom at least once. She'd taken to wearing similar outfits to her bartending job, because she enjoyed smirking at him every time a customer couldn't tear his eyes away.

He remembered the gauzy fabric fisted in her hands, Mirajane panting in his ear not to rip it or she'd fucking murder him, her threats when he left marks under the thin black straps.

Now some dickbag had his eyes glued to Mirajane's ass, and she knew it, too. She swiveled all too tauntingly when she reached up to one of the higher shelves to pull down a bottle of whiskey, smiling at the customer with one too many bats of her eyelashes.

The costumer plucked up the courage to hand her his card, sliding it across the counter top. Mirajane's eyes flickered up to Laxus's. He glared at her.

_Don't take it. _

Her mouth quirked up at the side.

_Fucking take it, and see what I do to you. _

Slowly, deliberately, she slid the card over and picked it up, the full force of her charm on the poor dude, and he grinned at her.

Laxus exploded out of his seat, stalking directly towards her, and she intentionally ignored him as she watched the customer leave. He stormed behind the bar- Bora wouldn't mind, probably- and grabbed her wrist. She looked at him lazily through her lashes, but her eyes sparked with excitement. She couldn't hide that shit from him.

"Mira's going to take a break." He tossed at Erza, who grinned, leaning against the bar watching him haul Mirajane into the employee's room.

The moment they were inside he slammed her against the door, fumbling for the lock with one hand while he sank his mouth onto hers. She kissed him back just as fervently, all too pleased with herself, judging by the smile on her lips. This just pissed Laxus off even more, and he drew back just to glare at her.

She looked back at him, smug, smeared lipstick and nonchalant eyes.

_Infuriating. _

"You haven't won." He told her, hiking that fucking skirt up her legs, digging his nails into her skin on his path up to her waist.

"I always win." She unbuttoned his shirt with smooth efficiency, running her tongue over his collarbone. "And so do you."

He slid two fingers inside her, and she was wet enough to take it, feeding his satisfaction.

"You wanted this." He taunted her, and she met his eyes in pure challenge. "You knew this would drive me over the edge. This fucking skirt. How long have you been waiting for this, Mira. How long were you waiting for punishment?"

"Don't get cocky." She tightened her grip on his shoulders, her nails cutting hard enough to warn him. "I've had plenty of choices."

"Can they touch you like I do?" Laxus pumped four fingers into her, and she couldn't help the moan at the doubled sensation. She'd always liked pain, to hover on the limits of her tolerance.

"We can find out," She managed, and Laxus growled at her, yanking his fingers away. She protested this loss with a glare, and he could help but kiss that anger, feel her anger and desperation.

Mirajane talked shit, but she could never hide her desire from him. She never had to.

She pushed him towards the sofa, unbuckling his jeans, sliding them down as the back of his knees hit the cushion and he went down. She straddled him without hesitation, rubbing herself against his cock, teasing him with her wetness.

"I'll make it up to you" She purred. "If you apologize for manhandling me just now."

"Not fucking likely." He raised an eyebrow at her, not moving a muscle, but her smile only grew.

"But, _Laxus" _She breathed into his ear, the tip of him at her enterance, and it took every ounce of willpower he had not to thrust up and fuck her harder than she deserved. "It'll be so worth it."

"You like to be manhandled." He drawled, because they both knew Mirajane liked when he tossed her around like she weighed nothing. She liked to be yanked, pushed, and hurt. She gave as good as she got, after all.

"I like to make you apologize for it." She sighed into his ear, rotating her hips tantalizingly against him. She ran her lips over his jaw, sucking on a soft spot by his ear with every intention of leaving a mark.

"You can apologize for taunting me for a week." His hands settled at her waist, guiding her movements, and she smirked into his skin. He pushed her down, and she allowed him an inch, savouring his groan.

"How did it feel, Laxus?" The side of her Laxus teasingly called "demon Mirajane" was pushing against her patience, her voice rougher and lower. _Punish him more. _

"It's about to feel better." He slid her down another inch into him, sucking in a breath. She moved slightly and he dug his hands into her hips, giving her a warning look. "Don't move."

"Don't tell me what to do." She let his shoulder feel her teeth, and he shuddered.

"You're drawing this out for yourself just as much as you're drawing this out for me." Laxus guided her hips movement, closing his eyes at the sensation. Soft, wet, warm Mirajane, silky black fabric tossed over his thighs, her mouth at his neck. "I'm giving you thirty seconds to make up your mind or I'm walking out of here." They both knew that wasn't happening, but the threats added to the excitement anyway.

"Are you threatening me?" Mirajane growled at him.

"I'm warning you." He pulled her info for another searing kiss, sucking on her lower lip, taking full advantage of it to push her lower onto his lap. She slid all the way home, and he didn't know if the moan he heard was hers or his.

"Touch me." Mirajane commanded him, and he smirked.

"Ride me." He returned, and she obliged, instantly into a hard, rough pace that made him see stars. _Fuck. _

He tugged at the straps that lined her chest, drawing them back to let them sting her skin, and she hissed under her breath, riding him that much harder. Pushing one cup to the side, Laxus pinched her nipple, watching Mirajane's face twist in pleasure at the pain. He loved the wild side of her, strong and commanding. Never simply submissive. Mirajane dug her fingers into his back, hard, shifting her weight so he hit her even deeper, nearly bouncing on his lap with her force. Laxus pulled her closer, tasting the salt on her skin. She was getting closer, her nails almost painful, her breath in hard pants.

"Laxus." She moaned into his ear.

"Yes, baby." He thrust his hips into her, hard, and she mewled her surprise, eyes fluttering shut. It was his turn for a taste of control.

He yanked at the black choker at her neck, and her eyes flew open as it tightened.

"You missed my touch." It wasn't a question, and Mirajane knew what answer he wanted.

"Yes, sir" She breathed, eyes lowering, and the sweetness of it drove him crazy.

"You want me to let you come."

"Yes, sir." She got out, the choker stifling her breath.

"Ask me to let you come."

"Please, sir."

He let go of the choker, heated with satisfaction and just _Mirajane. _She gasped raggedly for air, never once stopping her rhythm slamming down on his cock, her skin glowing with the light sheen of sweat.

The tension built, the heat electric, and right when he knew she was at the edge, he sank his teeth into the curve of her breast, and Mirajane screamed her release. Pain always did the trick.

He ran his tongue over the mark, all too pleased with himself, and Mirajane slumped against his shoulder.

"The _fuck," _She touched the mark, shooing him away. "This is going to be visible!"

"I don't care." He licked it again, slowly, and she huffed her frustration at him. There were a few moments of cooling down, sticky skin on sticky skin, and he enjoyed the view of mussed, sated Mirajane, red skin at her hips from his grip and the bite mark on her chest. Black straps, messy hair.

God, he loved this.

She slid off him a moment later, and he winced at his sensitivity. She rolled her eyes at him as she adjusted her skirt, smoothing it over her hips, and moving to the mirror.

She laughed quietly when she saw the mark. "Bora is going to fire me."

"Bora isn't going to fire you." Laxus got up, tugging his jeans on. As he neared the mirror, he saw the hickeys down the side of his neck, the red lines from his shoulders down his biceps. He wasn't surprised, but chided her all the same. "Look at what you did."

"You liked it." She said sweetly, redoing her hair.

"Punishment isn't over," He moved behind her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "I'm going to tie you up and tortue you for hours. I have a week to make up for. My whip is going to line your ass so hard you won't sit down for a week."

Mirajane met his gaze in the mirror, a small smile on her lips. "Yes, sir."

_Fuck. _

"Maybe once more…" He made to slide her skirt up, but she batted his hands away. "I have to go back, you awful, needy person."

"When is your shift over?" He trailed after her. "Never wear this fucking outfit to work again."

She _beamed_ at him.

"But it gets me my favourite results."

* * *

Hello Hello I wanted to write Jerza but after I started writing this, it felt too much like Miraxus, so I switched over.

Idk if links work, but if anyone is curious this is basically the outfit I pictured Mirajane in for this chapter: .

Minus those awful shoes.

Baby steps towards Miraxus BDSM. There will be a shifting/switching power dynamic between them.

I've been writing a bunch of sad angsty shit so maybe that's coming up?

Thank you for all your reads, reviews, and requests!

~DancingCrimson


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